Part 2
“Nine days,” Daniel said.
The answer changed the room. Dr. Price reached for her stethoscope while the technician moved the oxygen line out of her way. Beneath her fingers, the tissue around the old scar was warmer and firmer than the skin above it. When she pressed several inches lower, Rook’s abdomen tightened and his heart rate climbed.
“This scar,” she said. “What caused it?”
Daniel looked at Willa. “A puncture at Quarry Ridge. The day we found her.”
Dr. Price stopped examining Rook for only a fraction of a second. “How deep?”
“The clinic thought it was superficial. They flushed it, took X-rays, put him on antibiotics. He was restricted for three weeks and cleared after that.”
“Wood and some plant material can be difficult to see on ordinary radiographs.” She turned to the technician. “I want another ultrasound, focused from the scar inward. Get a sterile tray ready in case we need a chest tap.”
Daniel reached for Willa’s shoulder. “We need to step out.”
She pulled away. “You knew for nine days?”
“Not that it was this.”
“You knew something.”
The technician opened the door. Captain Ruiz was already waiting outside, having read enough in Daniel’s face to understand that the problem had changed.
Kate took Willa, who went only because Dr. Price had begun clipping more fur and because Rook needed the room more than she did. The technician placed the blue ribbon back in Willa’s hand as she passed. Daniel tried to remain, but the doctor pointed toward the hall.
“I need space, and I need his complete recent history written down. Every cough, appetite change, hesitation, missed jump, anything you dismissed because he kept working.”
Daniel stepped into the hallway. The door swung shut between him and his dog.
Captain Ruiz waited until they were several paces from Willa before she spoke. “Nine days?”
He stared through the glass. “He hesitated getting into the cruiser the Sunday before last. Coughed after drills last Tuesday. This Sunday he didn’t want pressure under the harness.”
“You told me the cough cleared.”
“It did.”
“You told me he was fit for deployment.”
Daniel wound the leather lead tighter around his fist. “He ate. He trained. He hit every scent article. This morning he nearly pulled Lowell off his feet.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Willa heard anyway. The hallway was too quiet for secrets.
Daniel glanced at her and lowered his voice. “His annual evaluation is next month. He was pulling at the kennel door. I told myself a short track would show me whether he could wait until Friday.”
“Rook is always ready,” Ruiz said. “That’s why you’re supposed to be the one who isn’t.”
The line struck cleanly. Daniel looked down at the lead in his hand.
Willa twisted the blue ribbon until it bit into her finger. “He doesn’t get to call in sick.”
Neither officer answered. “He doesn’t know how,” she said. “That’s your job.”
Kate drew her close, but Willa stayed facing Daniel. Anger felt steadier than fear. Since Quarry Ridge, every adult in her life had told her to name what hurt, to say when a room felt wrong, to ask for help before panic took her voice. Rook had been praised for doing the opposite. He ran when hurt. He obeyed when tired. People called that courage because it was useful to them.
“I made an appointment,” Daniel said. “Friday morning.”
“Three days from now,” Ruiz said.
“The clinic didn’t think the signs sounded urgent.”
“Did you tell them all three signs?” Daniel’s silence answered.
The treatment-room door opened, and a technician hurried past carrying sealed tubes. Through the gap, Willa saw Dr. Price bent over Rook’s left side. A length of clear tubing ran from beneath a sterile drape toward a collection container clouded with dark, rust-colored fluid.
Kate turned Willa’s face into her coat, but not before Willa saw Daniel lose what color remained in his. They waited near the vending machines. Mark returned from reception, crouched to retie the lace that had worked loose again, and handed Willa a paper cup of water she did not want. He listened while Kate explained in a murmur, then stood beside Daniel without offering comfort. Mark was usually the first person to make space for someone else’s mistake. This time he folded his arms.
Dr. Price came out a little later. A streak of ultrasound gel shone on her forearm.
“The fluid is in the pleural space, around the lungs rather than inside them,” she said. “It appears infected. Draining some has made it easier for him to breathe, but he is still unstable.”
“What caused it?” Ruiz asked.
“I can’t tell you yet. The pattern near that scar suggests a tract through the chest wall. A retained fragment is one possibility. So is an infection that spread along old damaged tissue.” She looked at Daniel. “The recent signs matter. This did not begin on the rail corridor this morning.”
Daniel nodded once, accepting the blow without defending himself. “What happens now?” Kate asked.
“We place chest tubes, continue oxygen and antibiotics, and send the fluid for testing. If his pressure holds, a CT scan will give us a better map. If there is foreign material, medicine alone may not clear the infection. He may need surgery.”
“And if his pressure doesn’t hold?” Willa asked.
Dr. Price crouched so they were level. “Then we keep treating what we can treat and make decisions based on what his body does. I won’t promise you something I don’t know.”
Willa studied the silver fish on the doctor’s shoe again. One of its painted eyes had worn away. “But he isn’t dying because he’s old.”
“No. He is very sick because something has been hurting him for a while.”
Behind the glass, Rook lay with his head turned toward the hallway. Willa could not tell whether his eyes were open. She held the ribbon against the window, a thin blue line between them.
Captain Ruiz moved Daniel several steps away. “I need the original injury report.”
“It’s in his medical file.”
“I need you to tell me what happened.”
Daniel watched Willa through the reflection in the glass. “Rook went through a broken service door behind the maintenance shed. There was a sliver missing from the lower panel. We found a puncture behind his foreleg after the arrest.”
Ruiz’s gaze shifted to the old scar visible through the clipped fur. “That puncture happened the day he brought Willa out of the woods…”
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